Digby The Useless TwCompanion
by Doctor Whoops
Summary: Digby, The Doctor's latest companion is a walking disaster desperately The Doctor tries to return him to earth, but The Tardis has other ideas. Features an unspecified Doctor and his 13th incarnation. Complete!
1. Default Chapter

**Digby The Useless Tw…Companion**

Dedicated to J & P with love

And sincere apologies to The Rutans…

** Now:**

"This is my thirteenth incarnation," The Doctor explained to his companion.

She nodded, "you already mentioned it."

"So I did," The Doctor smiled, running a hand through his thinning white hair, he fumbled in his pockets and produced a pair of spectacles.  Once in place he turned his attention to the Tardis console.    

To his companion he seemed younger when he smiled but in truth The Doctor was thousands of years old!  Yet still, despite all appearances to the contrary, he was comparatively young for a Time lord to be at the closing stages of his life cycle.  With his final regeneration now old and worn, he was resolutely putting off the inevitable for as long as it could possibly hold off.  

"When this body has drawn its last breath there will be no more!"  The Doctor continued to explain, he flicked a switch on the console, and pulled a lever, "This is my last chance."  

The Doctor's wrinkles became more pronounced as his face turned into a frown.  

"You said that before Doctor," his companion replied, "but whatever do you mean?" 

"My last chance, to right wrongs, correct mistakes, and hopefully leave the universe a safer and more stable place than it was when I found it." 

"You mentioned the Daleks…"  His companion prompted.

"I did?"  The Doctor seemed confused.

"Yes Doctor just now before you spoke of your Thirteenth incarnation, you were going to say something about the Daleks!"

The Doctor thought for a moment and then realisation dawned.

"Yes my child!  The Daleks!  We must destroy them once and for all!  I had the opportunity once to avert their creation you know, but I thought it best not to.  Later, or earlier, depending on which way you look at it, I set a trap for them and destroyed their home planet, but Davros their creator survived, and he was able to create more!  But now it's time to end it all."

"So is that where we are going now Doctor?  New Skaro?"

"Not yet my child, we have one quick stop to make first."   

*****


	2. Then

** Then:**

It was at times like these that The Doctor wondered why he ever bothered with assistants.  The answer of course was for companionship.  Other than that he didn't expect much else from his chosen companion.  Just someone to share in his adventures, and his eternal fascination with the universe.  He didn't expect an assistant to be his intellectual equal.  Indeed his vanity would not concede that this had ever happened.  

But it had once, she was a fellow Time Lord, Time Lady to be more precise.  Of the others most had been from a small green blue planet known to all Time Lords as sol 3.  Or Earth, to its inhabitants.  

Most of them had been very resourceful, even when separated on strange worlds, and involved in alien conflicts where circumstances had been such that they had been separated.  

On such occasions The Doctor's companions often showed remarkable resilience in the face of the unknown.  They were able to adapt very quickly, to deduce who to side with, and what action to take.  When eventually he was reunited with Tegan, Sarah Jane, Zoe, Jamie, Ian, Barbara, or Harry, or indeed any of the others The Doctor never ceased to be amazed by what they had experienced and how they had overcome the odds.  The information they provided was often vital to the problems resolution and therefore their assistance was invaluable.  

At the very least if all else failed The Doctor's companions knew how to scream and alert The Doctor to the presence of danger.  Providing vital seconds with which The Doctor could take the necessary steps to ensure their safety.  

And then there was Digby, the Doctor's current companion.  The Doctor had always considered himself to be a good judge of character that is until he met the vacant host of cellular matter that called itself "Digby," and regrettably invited him to share his travels through time and space.

The Doctor poked his head out from beneath the Tardis console and gave Digby one of his withering looks, with this particular incarnation The Doctor bore long oval features, an aristocratic nose and a full but currently upturned mouth.  And his normally sad blue eyes looked just plain irritable.   

"Digby, I asked you to tell me when you see the red light come on did I not?"

Digby nodded in confirmation.

"Well has it?"

Digby took one look at the Tardis console with all it's flickering switches and shrugged.  

"Don't know…" he replied pathetically. 

It had taken one small but disastrous adventure in the outermost regions of the galaxy to convince The Doctor it would be better to return said lump of cellular matter back to his correct time and location, and find someone far more suitable. The crew of a stranded spaceship had needed The Doctor's help to fix their engines, The Doctor's instructions to Digby had been very clear.

"Sit down and don't touch anything."   

There had obviously been some misunderstanding as Digby chose to interpret this instruction as "pace around the room and ask stupid questions whilst The Doctor tries to concentrate."  The highlight had been when Digby after hovering over a large red button for five minutes decided to press it thus initiating an auto destruct sequence.  

Fortunately The Doctor got everyone to the Tardis in the nick of time, and for once the Tardis had been in a co-operative mood and managed to drop the survivors back on their home planet, and in their correct time zone.  However the same could not be said for Digby, The Doctor had been trying ever since, to land the Tardis on earth in the early 21st century, but unfortunately the old girl had other ideas.  

In Earth time The Doctor had calculated he had been saddled with Digby for almost three months!  Three months in which the Tardis, temperamental at the best of times, had resolutely refused to land where she was asked to.  Three months of adventuring in time and space during which Digby's contribution had been to simply to stand around and whinge, or fiddle with things that he shouldn't, or simply lose interest and whinge about how much he missed "pizza".  On several occasions Digby's inability to warn The Doctor of oncoming danger, or to pitch in and help had almost ended in disaster.  In short, Digby was a liability, one that The Doctor could not afford to carry.       

But The Tardis it seemed was hellbent on travelling everywhere else other than the desired destination of Earth in May 2005, and The Doctor was beginning to think that he had upset the old girl in some unintentional way.  

If he didn't return the useless… 

The Doctor refrained from even thinking of the most appropriate adjective as such language was usually beneath him, but if something didn't happen soon he was going to have to take drastic action.    

"Did I not also ask you to make some tea?"     

The Doctor's carefully controlled irritation was beginning to betray itself as he pushed and pulled and huffed and puffed in the throes of his ongoing to fiddling with the Tardis circuitry.             

Digby shrugged again in response to The Doctor's question.  "Forgot…" he muttered. 

With a sigh of exasperation The Doctor got out from underneath the service panel that held the Tardis navigation circuits.  He stood up rearranging his clothing; which in this case was a velvet green Edwardian jacket, over a silk white shirt, dark waistcoat and plum cravat.  

The Doctor noticed that the red light in question was on after all, further fuelling his mounting irritation.

"Never mind Digby, I'll do it."

So saying the Doctor grabbed the teapot in a manner that suggested he held a lethal weapon and was about to use it, and stormed off to make the tea.

"You got any video games?"  Digby called after him, a question he had asked countless times in the last few months.

"NO!" The rest of The Doctor's reply was an indiscernible murmur that held a decidedly unfavourable tone.

One cup of tea later and his nerves feeling slightly more settled, The Doctor returned his attention to the problem he was trying to resolve.  His desperation to get shod of Digby had finally driven The Doctor to attempt the repair of a technical problem that he had so far in roughly a thousand years of travel in this beloved type forty spacecraft been unable to resolve.  

Once and for all The Doctor had attempted to get the Tardis onboard navigation system in proper working order.  Now with his tinkering finished for the day it was time for the moment of truth.  Time to see if once and for all he had finally cracked it.

The Doctor ran his hands soothingly over the Tardis console.

"Come on old girl, I really need your help here."

Digby looked quizzically at The Doctor,  "we going to land now?"

"That's the idea yes…"

"Where?"

"You know me Digby, like to keep our journeys random," The Doctor lied, "far more interesting that way."   Although there were times throughout his travels when this had been true, this was not one of them. 

"Will there be video games?"

"Possibly."

"Sweets?"  Asked Digby hopefully.

"I've told you I've got jelly babies!"

"Don't like jelly babies…"

"Then drink your tea and have a biscuit," The Doctor told him sternly. 

Honestly it was like talking to a kid!  You would never believe that Digby was in fact twenty-seven years old.  He also had never had a job in his life and still lived with his mum.  Both of which were facts that never failed to surprise anyone when revealed.

There was no need to set the coordinates; they had remained unaltered for the past three months.  The Doctor merely crossed his fingers and pulled the lever.        

*****


	3. Then But A Little Later

** Then:  But A Little Later**

"Doctor!"

A bedraggled figure detached itself from the group of Frowardian slaves that The Doctor and the Frowardian rebels had just rescued from possible toxic poisoning in the Argonite mines used to build the weapons of mass destruction with which the evil Lord Strakov was going to terrorise his neighbouring planets.  

It was all in a days work really.  

"Doctor it's me!"

"Digby!"  The Doctor exclaimed,  "You're alive!"  He added trying not to sound too disappointed.  

"Can we go now?"

"No Digby, there's still work to do," The Doctor explained,  "Did you find anything out?"

"Nah…"

"What nothing at all?" 

Digby shrugged and adjusted his baseball cap so he was wearing it backwards.

"Well, what have you been doing for the last six hours?"

"Not a lot really, got captured didn't I?"

"So I see Digby, what happened then?"

"Well they made me dig, but I wasn't very good at it so they put me to work cleaning the toilets…"

"And did you find anything out?"  The Doctor probed. 

"Well the guards never check the toilets, so I just hung around waiting to be rescued!"

"Didn't you try to escape?"

"Couldn't be bothered…you got any food?"

"Digby you are a useless…"

"Doctor!"  It was Klarg the Frowardian rebel leader, "We must get these people to safety."

The Doctor left the sentence unfinished.  "Come on Digby you can help me sneak into   Strakov's palace,"  he turnedto Klarg, "be ready to move on my signal."

"Which will be what?"

"Loud and chaotic if I can help it, have the palace watched you'll know it when it happens." 

So saying, The Doctor swept off dramatically heading in the direction of Strakov's palace.  Only to return moments later when he realised that Digby wasn't following behind.

"Digby!" 

One of the Frowardian rebels had given Digby something to eat and drink, the Doctor found his latest companion perched on a rock gingerly gnawing at the food.   

"Come on Digby you can bring that with you!"

"Don't they have chips?"

"No Digby potatoes are only indigenous to earth!"

"What about kebabs?"

"Digby either eat what you are given, or wait until we get back to the Tardis."

The Tardis!   The Doctor flinched at the very mention of the word.  Once again it had performed its equivalent of a two-fingered salute and refused to take Digby home, thrust them instead into yet another threat to universal harmony.    

However seeing as he was obviously going to be stuck with Digby for the foreseeable future, The Doctor resolved to make a man out of the walking couch potato if it was the last thing he ever did.  

Digby took a sip of the drink; having tried some earlier The Doctor knew it tasted like orange juice.  Digby must've thought so too as he drank the whole thing in one go.

The Frowardian rebel took the container from Digby when he was finished; he shook the empty container and glared at Digby in disbelief.

"I think that was supposed to be shared with the others."  The Doctor commented dryly.

But Digby just shrugged.

The Doctor grabbed his arm and steered him away from the mines before Klarg or any of the others could comment.  

*****

To a certain extent The Doctor was winging this particular adventure on autopilot.  During almost a thousand years of travel he had lived this situation through on countless other worlds.  Someone seizes power, and enslaves the people and puts them to work on a scheme that will then help them seize more power, and enslave even more people, which inturn is intended to generate another opportunity to seize yet more power and…Well who knows where it would stop if it was left unchecked?   

All The Doctor had to do was work out the plan, find its flaw, and then ruin it for the bad guy. 

That's not to say that The Doctor's interference was an automatic guarantee of success, or indeed that everything always went according to plan, but so far they had been on the planet barely six hours and whilst Digby had been skulking in toilets, The Doctor had made contact with the rebels, and rallied them into a strategic attack that had successfully captured the Argonite mines and effectively cut off an essential part of Lord Strakov's weapons program.  

To a certain extent this was admittedly more by luck than judgement in fact The Doctor often relied on luck more than he cared to admit.  The next stage of the "plan" for want of a better word was to employ the timely old yet highly dangerous strategy of allowing himself to be captured, and find some way of thwarting the enemy from within.  

"Hello!"  The Doctor called cheerily to the guards outside the palace checkpoint.  "I was wondering if the palace was open for guided tours?  My friend and I have come a long way, and wondered if you could point us in the direction of the nearest souvenir shop?"

The two guards were predictably unimpressed.

"Take them for questioning!"  Bellowed the more zealous looking of the pair waving some type of toxic chemical handgun at them.

"Will we get any food?"  Digby asked The Doctor shook his head in disbelief Digby couldn't even be bothered to be scared!

They were led into the bowels of the palace and locked away in a deep dark cell where they were told to await their fate.

The Doctor assured the guards that they weren't in any hurry.  

Digby remained quiet.

It was some twenty minutes later that a Frowardian dressed in black entered the cell.  He was flanked by two Frowardian Imperial Guards.  The figure in black wore a matching tunic, cape, and boots.  He also had a neatly trimmed goatee and a malevolent gleam in his eye.

The Doctor wondered idly whether there was some kind of universal retail outlet for despotic tyrants operating somewhere in the universe, as these days they all seemed to look alike.  

Strakov's opening gambit was as predictably clichéd as his look.

"So Doctor, we meet at last, but unfortunately the pleasure is all mine."  This was followed by raucous laughter.

The Doctor waited for him to stop.

"Doctor…"  It was Digby and at last he sounded fearful.

"Not now Digby leave all the talking to me."

"But Doctor I need to go…"

"Can't you wait until after we escape?"  The Doctor hissed.

"So Doctor…" Strakov had finished with the megalomaniacal laughter bit and was anxious to get onto the gloating about his cunning master plan segment of the proceedings. 

"One moment Strakov…" The Doctor waved his hand dismissively as Digby told him that he couldn't hold on much longer.

"I've told you before Digby, you really should try and go before we get captured."

"Sorry Doctor…"

"Anyway serves you right for drinking all the…"  The Doctor was distracted by something waving in his face.  He realised this was because one of the guards had shoved a toxic handgun under his nose.

"As I was saying…" Strakov was saying satisfied that he had The Doctor's attention.  

But The Doctor turned back to Digby and shook his head in disbelief, "you were cleaning toilets for six hours, didn't it even occur to you to actually use one?"

"Didn't have anything to drink then did I?"

"Is it okay if my friend uses the toilet?"  The Doctor finally turned his attention to Lord Strakov.

"NO IT ISN'T!" He snarled.

"I'm sure a bucket would do," The Doctor shrugged. 

"Before I subject you both to a slow and painful death Doctor, I want you to appreciate just how out of your depth you really are!"  He paused, "what do you think you're doing?"

Digby had turned to face a corner and a stream of steamy liquid was now oozing into the cell from the passage between his legs.

"Don't mind me just carry on."  

 It was now The Doctor's turn to shrug.  

******


	4. Now And Again?

**Now: And Again**

"So where are we Doctor?"  His companion asked as the Tardis doors finished opening. 

"I forget the name of the place," The Doctor paused thoughtfully,  "Come to think of it I don't even remember asking."

The Doctor picked up a hat from the hat stand by the door, and eyed his companion reproachfully, "are you sure you will be warm enough like that?"

She just shrugged "of course."

The Doctor sighed and picked up his walking stick and made his way outside.

"The old girl came through, this is almost exactly where I left the useless little tw…"

******


	5. Then A Little Later Than Before

**Then:  A Little Later Than Before**

"You can't possibly win Strakov," The Doctor was explaining to him that rebel forces had seized the mining plant and were within striking distance of the palace. 

"It doesn't matter Doctor," Strakov replied smoothly, "I have built all the weapons I will need, with one or two more to spare…"  He flashed an evil grin.

"You would use them on your own people?"

"Why not?"  Strakov shrugged, "After all that's how we ran all our research tests.." 

"So what is it you want to show me?"  The Doctor snapped in disgust. 

"This Doctor!  The helm of all my power!"  

Strakov was in the middle of his control centre, actually a demountable hut that had been hastily assembled in the palace courtyard.  

"It's a bit crowded in here Strakov," The Doctor observed.

The room was stuffed with consoles and monitors around the perimeter walls.  There were Technicians busying themselves all over the room whilst trying to avoid tripping over loose cables or each other, and continually getting their lab coats caught in bits of equipment.  Strakov had erected a swivel chair on a small pedestal in the centre of the hut where he was currently sat.  

The chair was soft and leather padded, and had a cup holder fitted on the right.  

It was clear that Strakov enjoyed the feeling of being at the centre of power as he swivelled around to observe his minions at work.  Every now and then he barked out a demand for a status report, and so in order to brush aside The Doctor's comment he seized the opportunity to interrogate a passing Technician who dutifully proceed to spout a load of technical jargon whilst Strakov's eyes gradually glazed over.  

Sensing that the minion was coming to the end of his spiel Strakov quietly asked him whether that all meant it was a good thing or a bad thing.

"It is good my Lord."  The Technician replied knowing full well that to respond with anything else would mean being subjected to piercing screams of "YOU HAVE FAILED ME!" Before being subjected to instant death.        

From what the Technician had said it was obvious that this cobbled together control centre was built to oversee the launching of a long-range missile tipped with Argonite warheads aimed at a nearby planet.  It was due to be launched sometime within the next twenty-four hours unless of course, the neighbouring planets all acquiesced to Strakov's demands.   

 "You would've been better off setting this all up somewhere with more space," The Doctor persisted, "like the banquet hall."      

"I already tried that Doctor but Lady Strakov threatened to make me sleep on the couch!"  Lord Strakov admitted suddenly in a moment of unguarded frankness.  "I mean er that the signal reception was found to be better in the courtyard."

One of the technicians could be heard sniggering, Strakov gestured to one of his guards and the unfortunate boffin was taken outside to be shot.   

"Fortunately for you there appears to be a vacancy in my Technical department Doctor!"  Lord Strakov beamed as the screaming and pleading from outside stopped abruptly due to gunfire, "put him to work," he gestured at the guard nearby "if he does anything out of place kill him!"  

"What about the other one?"  The guard queried.

Lord Strakov thought for a moment, "First have him clean out the cell that he urinated in."  He decided.  

Digby's face fell, more cleaning!

"Then put him to work in the kitchens."

Digby's face lit up,  "Could I have a change of clothes?"  he asked gesturing at his pee stained joggers.

"You can have the dead Technicians trousers, if they'll fit!"  And so saying Lord Strakov leapt from his chair and made his way out of the hut.  

He desperately needed to go as well!   

*****


	6. Now And Then

**Now: And Then?**

The Doctor and his companion found themselves on a busy street.  

"Frowar!"  The Doctor said with sudden realisation.

"Excuse me Doctor?"

"This is Frowar!"  The Doctor exclaimed.

"So we are in the right place?"

"Oh yes my child, I've been putting this off for as long as I possibly could…"

"Putting off what Doctor?"  His young companion looked around, the thriving busy street overlooked in the distance by what appeared to be the smoking ruins of a once historic building.  There was confetti on the floor and people were milling around some were singing and some hugged each other.  At one end of the street the clean up had begun as a large tank like device with suction hosing trawled the ground to remove debris.

It reminded the young girl of the day after the Notting Hill Carnival.   

"Well whatever it was we've missed it!"  She muttered.

"Oh on the contrary my child I was here in fact I still am…"  So saying The Doctor gestured to a familiar looking blue box on the other side of the street.

The young companion did a double take and then checked behind her to confirm what her eyes were telling her.  

There were two Tardises on opposite sides of the street. 

*****


	7. Then Later Yet Again But Not Too Late

 Then :  Later Yet Again, But Not Too Late… 

Despotic dictators were invariably so full of themselves in the closing stages of executing there plans, that they very often overlooked what appeared on the face of it to be a minor detail.  This is sort of thing that The Doctor would look for, a small chink in the armour, which he could then hope to find a way to exploit.

A small loophole, that was all The Doctor needed he had not expected to find a gaping chasm!  As stupidity goes, placing The Doctor to work in the control centre had to rank as the most stupid thing a despot had ever tried since…since six Zygons had attempted to take over the earth, or Davros had attempted to seize the hand of omega, The Doctor concluded, smiling to himself.

The guard was hovering over The Doctor's right shoulder.  The Doctor appeared to be studying a grid of black and white squares.  There were white figures at one end and black figures at the other.  

"What's that you're doing?"

The Doctor looked at him, "What do you think?"

The guard thought for a moment, "I don't know…"

"I'm doing as Professor Grayvor requested," The Doctor explained,  "I'm testing the strength of the signal to the rocket silos." 

The guard looked to the Professor for confirmation.   The Professor looked up from his console and nodded in confirmation.  The guard thought he caught a faint trace of amusement flickering over the Professor's face, but he couldn't be sure.  

Since Lord Strakov's departure The Doctor had been chatting animatedly with the Professor in order "To learn exactly what his task was."  Most of their conversation had washed over the guards head to him it was all technobabble peppered with references to    Argonite crystals, warheads, rockets, frequency rates over long distances, autopilot, manual overrides, and then there had been something about networking, multiplayer, and something that they had both got quite excited about that they called "Chess."      

"You see these are the missiles receivers," The Doctor pointed to the digital chess pieces that were black. 

 "These white ones,"  The Doctor continued, "are the command centres, now first I send a signal to the missiles..." The Doctor moved a white knight to flank Grayvor's black bishop.

Grayvor's Bishop promptly retreated.

"And that's the response from the warhead!"  The Doctor concluded with a winning smile.

"I knew that!"  The guard said determined not to betray his ignorance.  "Just remember no tricks!"  

******

All in all, Digby was quite content in the kitchen.  He was a bit gutted about soiling his joggers, they were Tommy Hilfiger after all, but he had arrived at the kitchen just in time for dinner, and had discovered that The Doctor was wrong!  There was such a thing as chips on the planet Frowar!  Not only that but there was also chicken and mushroom pie.

After dinner the Head Chef had put a very bloated Digby to work washing dishes, as the rest of the kitchen staff went to work on preparing the evening banquet.  

There were quite a lot of unusual things on the menu that Digby had suspected were distinctly Frowardian.  Or "indigenous to this planet," as The Doctor had put it.  But the main dishes were steamed lobster and steak.  

Digby looked around, noting that everyone was busy, he also noted that the placed seemed relatively unguarded, not that he had any intention of escaping.  Satisfied that no one was going to bother him, Digby grabbed the headphones that were permanently placed around his neck and put them in his ears.  

_A little music wouldn't hurt while he worked_! 

But they didn't feel right.  They didn't feel like they were attached to anything.  Digby checked beneath his sweatshirt and felt the end of the black band that was also permanently hung round his neck.  And experienced his first wave of horror, since arriving on Frowar.  

Not only had he ruined the only pair of designer joggers he had brought with him, but now his mp3 player had gone missing!   

*****

"Now what are you doing?"  The guard barked after The Doctor had yelled out "Check mate!"  

Professor Grayvor had gone off to make some tea and The Doctor had produced a small sonic device that he was using to remove a service panel.

"Well you heard The Professor!"  The Doctor exclaimed, we have to recheck the systems and set up the test again!"  The Doctor held up the removed service panel.

"Hold this!"

The guard reluctantly took it from The Doctor's grasp.  

It only took The Doctor a matter of moments to wire Digby's mp3 player into the transmission circuits and set the playlist on repeat cycle.  The Guard was still holding up the service panel and was therefore unable to see what The Doctor was doing. 

"Professor Grayvor tells me there is only one missile here at the moment," The Doctor said conversationally, "presumably the rest are stored somewhere else?"

"Need to know only basis Doctor," The guard replied levelly, "They're in a safe place far away from here." 

In fact that was exactly what The Doctor needed to know, he smiled to himself relieving the guard of his burden. 

"Thank you," he smiled, "you've been very helpful."

He just had time to seal the panel back into place when the Professor returned with the tea.  

"Are we ready for another test Doctor?"   The Professor enquired, handing him a mug.

"Absolutely Professor." 

The guard looked from one to the other, something was going on but he couldn't put his finger on it.   As if there was some kind of joke between the boffins to which he was not privy.  No matter, he would check the movements of the white and black figures and make sure that The Doctor ran the required test correctly…or at least looked like he was.  After all, how could he tell?    

The guard looked around the room, he wasn't sure but some of the other Technicians appeared to be smirking too.        

Smiling inwardly to himself, The Doctor considered his opening move.  Technicians were the same the universe over he mused.   If you left them to get on with their job they usually did.  If you lorded over them and breathed down their necks the way Strakov liked to, you forced them to appear busier than they actually were.  To appear to be working at all times, in an attempt to create the illusion that they are somehow indispensable.  

Were Strakov to ever realise that the machines did most of the work he would also realise that he had no need of so many technicians.  And from what The Doctor could tell, judging from the sudden demise of the Technician that dared to snigger, Strakov's organisation did not operate a particularly beneficial redundancy policy.    

*****

Digby had finished cleaning most of the dishes, well, the ones he didn't break anyway.  He was then made to empty the bins before being put to work on peeling tearjerkers.  This was a type of local vegetable that looked suspiciously like an onion, only ten times more potent.

Digby hadn't wept so much since he first saw the ending of Terminator 2.  That last clip of Arnie descending into the molten lava got to him every time.     

He gritted his teeth and continued to peel.  Around him the hustle and bustle of the kitchen continued in earnest.  From what Digby could gather, Lady Strakov was having what she called a "little soiree" and had asked the kitchen to prepare what any right-minded Head Chef would call a "banquet."  

A flustered waiter rushed in from the banquet hall with a plate of steak, sautéed potatoes and assorted veg.

"What's the matter?"  The Head Chef asked. 

"The Count wanted lobster," explained the waiter whilst preparing to scrape the food into the bin.

"Wait!"  

Everyone in the kitchen stopped what they were doing and looked at Digby.  

"Can I have it?"   

The Head Chef had been in the middle of chopping up lobster, he paused meat cleaver still poised in mid air. 

"You? How many jerkers have you peeled?"

"er…roughly or exactly?"  Digby queried wiping his constantly streaming eyes.

"HOW MANY?"   The Head Chef boomed, waving the cleaver with menace. 

"One."  Digby mumbled.

"ONE?"  The Head Chef sneered,  "if you don't hurry up with that, you'll be chopped up, steamed, and served on the next platter to go!"  

The Head Chef paused for effect.

"What did you say your name was?"

"Digby."

"Digby?"   The Head Chef considered this, "Digby," he stated matter of factly, "you are a useless…."

And so saying he finished what The Doctor had been on the point of saying earlier, it wasn't very complimentary and it rhymed with hat.  

*****

The Doctor had beaten Professor Grayvor for the third time in a row when Strakov breezed back into the room.  Instantly The Doctor and the Professor closed the game and returned the screens to their usual functions, just as Strakov resumed his seat and barked out a request for a report.  

Professor Grayvor went into painstaking detail most of which The Doctor noted had been recounted earlier and none of which was particularly relevant, but merely thrown in to give the impression that the task at hand was far more complicated than it really was.  There was an awkward pause, before Strakov, who was staring forlornly at his empty cupholder, suddenly realised that The Professor had finished. 

"So is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"It is good my Lord," The Professor replied unhesitatingly.  

"Excellent Professor, in that case ready the missiles for launching."  Strakov motioned to his guard, "tell the kitchen to bring me a cup of tea."  

The guard mumbled something into his headset. 

"The missiles are ready my Lord," The Professor stated.

"They are?"  Lord Strakov tried to mask his surprise.  "Yes of course, Good…"

The Professor was still awaiting instruction.  "Anything else you require my Lord?"

"Put me through to the President of Jawa Delphra," Lord Strakov commanded dismissively, he glanced at his guard for confirmation that tea was forthcoming.

The guard nodded.

"Biscuits?"   Lord Strakov snapped.

The guard mumbled something else into his headset. 

The Doctor smiled to himself and began making the final adjustments to what he thought was one of his more inspired pieces of sabotage. 

*****

"You!"  The Head Chef pointed at Digby, "Take this to his lordship!"

A tray bearing a mug of tea and a selection of biscuits were thrust into Digby's hands.  

Digby stared at it longingly he was gasping for a cuppa!  And the biscuits were tempting too.

"Don't even think it sonny," The Head Chef warned, "not if you like breathing that is, just take it to the control room and come straight back here got it?"      

Digby nodded and headed off unsupervised.  He smiled to himself, _one little sip wouldn't matter…would it?_

*****


	8. Then Surrender Or Die?

** Then: Surrender Or Die?**

Strakov turned away from the guard who was once again mumbling into his headset, and straight at the screen full of Jawa Dephran High Council officials.   

"Ahh there you are!  Greetings from Frowar President Elect Sarogustov!"

"Greetings Lord Strakov!"  A voice came through the speakers but Strakov could not determine which of thirty odd officials stood before him on the screen that it came from.  

Strakov had never paid much attention to galactic politics throughout the years he had risen through the ranks of the military.  It was a wonder he even new the name of the current President Elect on his neighbouring planet.  It had only become something of importance in recent months following the bloody military coup that he had staged.  The one in which he had successfully wiped out Frowars royal bloodline, and bizarrely taken the title of Lord upon his ascendance to power.  

Almost as if it hadn't occurred to Strakov that he could now be King.  In fact it wasn't that at all, it's just that to Strakov being a King seemed like a poncey title, whereas to Strakov the title of  Lord was far more masculine.  

Strakov played with his twirly moustache. 

"Never mind the formalities," He said sharply, "I simply wish to issue you with an ultimatum!"   This was the bit he was looking forward to the bit where he told them to "Surrender or Die!"                    

But a movement to his right caught his attention.  At last!  It was someone bearing tea!  He grabbed the mug desperate for a quick sip.  

He stopped staring at it in disbelief.  "What's this?"  

"Something wrong Strakov?"  The Doctor thought it was high time he made his presence felt, and slowly made his way towards Strakov's chair. 

Strakov had completely forgotten all about The Doctor and suddenly realised that the tray bearer was his companion, the one with the weak bladder. 

"Where's the rest of my tea?  This cup is half empty!"

"Or half full," The Doctor chimed in, "depending of course on your point of view…"

Digby just shrugged.

Lord Strakov looked at them both, "I've suddenly grown very tired of you two!"  He declared, "Guard take them out to the launch site and have them tied to the missile we've primed for launching!"  

"Is that wise Strakov?"  The Doctor queried, "all that extra weight?"

"It could jeopardise the launch."   Professor Grayvor's voice came timidly from behind his console.

At the mention of "missile" and "launch" the onscreen Officials of Jawar Dephra erupted into a chorus of panic. 

Lord Strakov fished for a remote and hit "mute."

"Very well shoot them and bring me some more tea!"  

The guard cocked his gun.

"Time for a refill!"  The Doctor knocked Strakov's cup sending the now lukewarm liquid straight into the guards face.  "Run Digby!" 

The Doctor pushed past the guard and for once Digby was right behind him, still carrying the biscuits.      

 "Alert the guards!"  Screamed Strakov "don't let them escape!"  

Having rubbed the tea out of his eyes the guard suddenly noticed that his headset was missing.  

*****

The Doctor and Digby had run through the courtyard and straight into the banquet hall.  There was a strong smell of percolated coffee in the air. 

"Ahh biscuits…" a distinguished looking guest snatched the plate off Digby.

Digby began to protest but the Doctor motioned him to stay quiet.  He was now wearing the missing headset.  

"Let's go," he said, "they're sending guards this way."

Digby snatched the biscuits back and followed The Doctor out into the kitchen. 

*****

The President Elect of Jawa Dephra was desperately trying to negotiate, the other ministers and officials were either panicking, pleading, or trying to decide what to do amongst themselves.

Lord Strakov was still having difficulty discerning which one was The President.  

"QUIET!"  He boomed, "All of you except The President Elect sit down and shut up!"

Everyone did as they were told, to Strakov there appeared to be no one left standing.

"Is that better?"  The President Elect's voice came from off screen.

"Where are you?"  Strakov 's patience was wafer thin.

There were some bustling noises and two of the ministers produced an empty chair.  A small man around three feet tall climbed up and stood on it.

 "Is that better?"  The President Elect asked again.

"er .. Yes," Replied Strakov somewhat put off his stride, "I'll keep this short…er I mean brief."

There was a moments awkward pause as The President Elect  waited expectantly. 

"My terms are simple Surrender or Die!"  Strakov had finally got round to saying it, but the moment for dramatic pronouncements had passed and it sounded rather flat.

"Okay we surrender."  The President Elect said simply.

Strakov hadn't expected this; he had gone to great lengths to build Argonite fuelled missiles, all tipped with biological weapons that were tried and tested on his own people.  One of them was currently trained on the Southern side of Jawa Dephra and Strakov had been looking forward to launching it as a display of his superior firepower.  

"You Surrender?"  Lord Strakov asked making sure he hadn't misheard.

"Oh yes," replied the President Elect, "all things considered it seems the best choice, so what happens now?"

"Is this some kind of trick?"   

"No really we surrender, I hereby rescind all power and acknowledge Frowardian authority."

"Well okay then," Lord Strakov seemed a little disappointed, "Thanks."

"No big deal" The little man replied, "As my last act of Parliament I will organise a parade in our capital to welcome your conquering troops, my astronomers tell me you have a space fleet currently orbiting our skies waiting to land."

Strakov acknowledged this with a nod.  

"Shall I cancel the launch my Lord?"  Professor Grayvor queried hopefully, he was a scientist not a fighter.

"Doesn't seem to be much need now…" Lord Strakov said dejectedly.

"Thank you Lord Strakov," The President Elect of Jawa Dephra, replied gratefully.

"There's no need to thank me," Replied Lord Strakov.

"Oh but on the contrary…"

"No" Lord Strakov cut him off a wicked gleam in his eye, "There really is no need you see because I'm going to give the order to launch anyway!"

*****

 The Doctor and Digby managed to pass unnoticed through the kitchen; two guards were in hot pursuit.

"Halt or we fire!"  One cried.

"Keep running!"  The Doctor told Digby, "And stop eating those biscuits!".

They were approaching the work surface where the Head Chef was busily engaged in preparations for tomorrows inevitable spur of the moment soiree/banquet that Lady Strakov was bound to inform him she had just arranged. 

After all why should tomorrow be any different?

The Doctor leapt up on one end of the table as a gun blast whizzed past where his legs would've been had he not moved.  Digby followed after him and they both leapt over the Head Chef's shoulders.  The Doctor on the right, and Digby on the left.  

"Have you finished peeling those jerkers yet?"  The head Chef screamed after them, as the guards leapt onto the table to follow.

The Doctor threw a food trolley into the path of the oncoming guards, he paused for a moment thoughtfully.  

It was time to send a signal to Klarg. 

The guards had negotiated the trolley and they would be ready to fire again at any moment. The Doctor took the butt of his Sonic Screwdriver and smashed it into a fire alarm by the nearest exit and dragged Digby out through the door.

They were back in the courtyard, surrounded by guards.

"Now what Doctor?"

"Quiet Digby I'm trying to listen."  The Doctor had blocked his left ear in order to listen through the headset.  A feat made more difficult by the clanging sounds of the fire alarm.

"Put your hands where I can see them!"  Ordered one of the guards. 

"They're about to launch the missile!"  The Doctor exclaimed.

"You there take off that Headset!"  The guard levelled his gun at the Doctor, "And you…" he looked at Digby, "give us those biscuits!"

The Doctor took off the headset with his right hand; his left still held his sonic screwdriver.

Digby reluctantly handed over the biscuits, his face full of crumbs.  

There was a faint whirring whilst The Doctor squeezed his sonic screwdriver into the headset mike.  The guards all flinched as sound was amplified to an excruciating level.  Some of them dropped their guns.

"What are you doing Doctor?"  Digby asked.

"Sending a signal!"  The Doctor explained.

*****

Behind a large panel in Strakov's command centre a red light glowed on a small, silver one hundred and twenty eight megabyte mp3 player, that Digby's father had given him for his birthday.

 *****

"What music did you have on your mp3 player?"  The Doctor asked as he and Digby made their way through the pain stricken and helpless guards.  

Digby shrugged, "Hip Hop mainly, but I lost it."  

The Doctor snorted in disapproval, "Better start running again Digby."  

They were nearing the palace gates and everywhere Digby looked guards were convulsed in agony, as amplified sonic waves pulsed through their bodies leaving them unable to control their movements. 

 "I can't hold them off much longer, not without inflicting permanent damage."

"Will they be alright?"

"Depends how you look at it," replied The Doctor as they made their way through the exit, "on the one hand they will no longer be under attack by sonic waves…"

"And on the other?"

The Doctor relaxed his grip on the Sonic Screwdriver, as Klarg's men came into view from amongst the surrounding forest.  

"On the other hand they will be forced to listen to your music Digby!  I'm sure they'll wish I never stopped!"  

*****

"Something's jamming the signal!"  Professor Grayvor exclaimed as the words "transmission failure" filled his screen.  

"What?"  Strakov sprang from his seat.  "What is it?  Where is it coming from?"

"I'm running a trace at the moment," Explained the Professor who was wearing a headset.  "It appears to be sonic in nature…no wait, it's changing…"

Strakov pulled the headset and flicked the switch for the speakers; it was the only bit of machinery he knew how to work.  

*****


	9. Then The Jump Off

** Then: The Jump Off..**
    
    _1,2, 1,2, yo check this out, it's the jump off right now I want everybody, to put your work down, put your guns down and report to the pit, the gravel pit… _

The tannoy system throughout the palace was alive with the sound of The Wu Tang Clan!  However owing to the fire alarm that was also going off most people were not hanging round to listen.

At the very furthest end of the vast courtyard, the rocket missile all primed and ready for launch remained inert in its silo below ground, awaiting the signal that would issue it's instructions.  

"Where's The Doctor?"  Klarg was asking Digby.

Digby just shrugged, The Doctor had explained what he had to do but it was bit technical so Digby hadn't really taken it in.  

The fire alarm had sparked an evacuation from the kitchen and maintenance areas of the palace.  Confused and drunken soiree guests were also bumbling around as fire safety officers tried to organise and account for everyone.  

Closer to the palace, imperial guards had engaged with Klarg's rebels, but still whoozy from their sonic ear bashing, were starting to wish that they hadn't. 

Sensing correctly that Digby would yield him no further information Klarg left him to enter the fray. 

*****

_  African killers bees black watch (black watch)_

_On your radio, blowin out yo' watts_

_From Park Hill, the house on haunted hill_

Every time you walk by your back get a chill 

The Doctor made his way through the noise and chaos to the rocket silo launch.  The nose cone could be seen protruding through the ground with smoke billowing up around it. 

Kneeling down The Doctor set about dismantling the warhead.

I spit like a semi-automatic to the grill 

Klarg and his men were mopping up the imperial forces.  Most of whom had surrendered, apart form a hardcore group intent on defending the control centre. 

"Is there something we should know Doctor?"  Klarg was at his side.

"I've put a jamming signal on the missile to prevent its launch, however its engines are still trying to start and the rockets overheating…" The Doctor explained without looking up. 

"You mean the rocket could go off any moment?"

"There's still time but the biological warhead must be disabled, I need some of your strongest men to carry it to safety, get everyone else evacuated!"

"Can't you just stop it from exploding?"

"Not without getting back into the control centre and it's too well guarded!"

"It's a simple choice Klarg, either we allow this missile to launch itself on one of the most densely populated areas of Jawa Dephra, or we let it blow up the palace."  

Party people gather round, count down to apocalypse The Wu Tang Clan boomed. 

"Can you at least shut off that racket?"  Klarg asked as he left to make the necessary arrangements.

*****

_…   don't front_

You had it for a minute but it seem like a month! 

Inside the control room it was bedlam, another Technician had been shot for insubordination.  He had actually tried to evacuate the building believing it to be on fire.

"I WANT THAT MISSILE UP IN THE AIR GRAYVOR!!!"  Strakov screeched.

"It's not responding to anything I try!"

Strakov placed a gun to his temple, "perhaps you just need the right kind of motivation."

*****

The High Council of Jawar Dephra looked on at the antics in the control room with amusement.  

"Do we still need to arrange a parade Mister President?"  One of the ministers enquired.

"Oh yes," The President acknowledged, "one way or the other we will either be celebrating or commiserating tomorrow."  

He was still stood on the chair tapping his feet to Digby's music.  

"Quite good aren't they?"  He said to his cultural minister, "Who are they again?"

"Sounded like they called themselves The Rutan Clan Mister President."

The President Elect was very surprised at this; as since anyone could remember the warlike Rutans had been engaged in a long protracted conflict with neighbouring Sontaran forces.  

Who would've thought that they had time for music too?

"Contact their cultural minister, see if we can book them for the parade."

******

"Lord Strakov," Professor Grayvor's voice was very tense, "it appears that the biological warhead has been dismantled."

"IMPOSSIBLE!"  Strakov boomed without really knowing whether it was or not.  

_  I'm the one that called your bluff_

_When your boy tried to act tough..._

There was a crackling and suddenly The Wu-Tang Clan faded out.  

"We interrupt this broadcast to bring you a special announcement."  It was The Doctor's voice on the headset, "You have approximately until the end of this wonderful song to evacuate, before the whole place blows up, in the meantime, party on!" 

The music was back in time for the chorus, and Strakov shot The Professor, after all it was the next best thing to killing a Doctor.

_(Back, back and forth and forth…)_

_Check out my gravel pit_

_(Back, back and forth and forth…)_

A mystery unravelling… 

As Professor Grayvor's lifeless corpse hit the deck, the remaining technicians and guards were halfway towards the exit.  

Ignoring them Strakov turned towards his beloved elevated chair and sat down.  Aside from the cup holder there was one other ingenious feature that Strakov had insisted be incorporated into its design.  

He opened the secret compartment and his fingers hovered over the switch.  

"Strakov!"  It was The Doctor from the other end of the room.

"So Doctor come to gloat?"

"No I just came to switch off the tannoy," replied The Doctor sarcastically, "it's beginning to get on peoples nerves!"

Strakov raised his gun.  

"Really Strakov if you could just turn it down a little for the sake of your neighbours…"

"Your wit is tiresome Doctor!"

"As is your megalomania Strakov, call it a day why don't you?  Your army has surrendered, the palace is evacuated, and the fleet have been recalled from space…"

"This isn't the end Doctor!  I have an army loyal to me in the south, and a whole arsenal of missiles hidden elsewhere!  This is only the beginning!"

So saying Strakov flicked the switch in the secret compartment of his chair, an engine sprang alive somewhere in the chairs base, and the roof of the control centre parted in the middle allowing the chair to propel Strakov skywards. 

He cackled and fired at The Doctor missing his head by inches.  The Doctor sighed as he watched the ridiculous contraption disappear into the distance.

"Sometimes I miss The Master," he muttered. 

A bleeping noise reminded The Doctor why he was there; to shut down the missile, he was really going to let the palace blow up if he could really help it, but a quick glance at the ever-rising temperature controls for the silo told him that he was too late.  

There were only seconds to spare before the whole thing blew. 

*****

From a safe distance the evacuee's witnessed the explosion ripping through the sky reducing the palace to rubble.  

Digby was finishing the last of the biscuits.  

"Anyone seen The Doctor?"  Klarg was asking around.

Digby shrugged, "does that mean I can't go home?"

*****


	10. Moments Before Now On The Sunny Side Of ...

Moments Before Now, On The Other Side Of The Street 

The Parade had been successful, Klarg had been sworn in as acting President, and his first act was to declare a public holiday.  

The day had gone well and both The Doctor and Digby had been invited to stand on The Presidential float with Klarg but had both declined.  The Doctor had wanted to leave straight away, but had caved in to Digby's pleas to stay for another day.

"There's free food!"   Digby was declaring for the hundredth time.

"It's all finished now Digby," The Doctor explained.

"We have been invited to a private party at the Presidents."

"It's been cancelled Digby," The Doctor stated.  "Strakov is still on the loose, and the hunt for him and his weapons of mass destruction is afoot."   

"Does that mean we have to stay and help?"

"No we cannot interfere, besides the President of Jawar Dephra needs my help."

"Why?"

"Because Digby, The Rutans have declared war on Jawar Dephra," The Doctor stated, "owing to a misunderstanding."  And again The Doctor gave Digby one of his withering glares.

"So how come we can interfere in that but not in the hunt for Strakov?"

"Because it was your music that triggered it!"  The Doctor sighed, "The Rutans found it deeply offensive to be asked to provide entertainment for what they regard as an inferior species…" 

Digby's eyes glazed over as The Doctor's explanation washed over him.

"We have to negotiate with the Rutan's," The Doctor finished his explanation.

"Can't I stay here and wait for you?"

"Digby it's hundreds of lightyears away, and this is a very delicate mission that will require the utmost tact and diplomacy…"   The Doctor considered what he had just said, and looked at the useless slob before him.  

Tact and diplomacy?

"On second thoughts Digby perhaps you better had wait here." 

"On my own?"

"I wont be long…"

"But you said it was hundreds of miles away…"

"Light years," The Doctor corrected him.

"And you said this planet didn't have chips!"

"I said no such thing!"  The Doctor declared huffily, "I said potatoes are not indigenous to this planet, that's a different matter…"

The Doctor had visited this Argonite dependant system before; he knew that earth colonists populated it and had clearly brought along comforts from home.   

"Will you be long?"  Digby asked.

"I already told you I wouldn't."

"That's what you said about the palace, took them hours to dig you out!"

"It wasn't exactly fun for me either you know!"  The Doctor snapped, "have you ever spent three hours in a meat freezer?"

"What were you doing in there?"

"Hoping the cold would shield me from the blast, good job I was right."

"And I lost my mp3 player…" Digby whinged.

"I'll build you a better one!" The Doctor sighed something caught his eye on the opposite side of the street, "I-I'll see you soon."

The Doctor entered the Tardis.  

"When?"

"Digby this is a time machine I'll probably be back five minutes before I'm gone!"  The Doctor pointed to The Tardis that had just materialised at the opposite side of the street.

"In fact there I am now!"  He declared, and with that he slammed the door and the Tardis dematerialised.   

******


	11. Now On The Sunny Side Of The Street

**Now : On The Sunny Side Of The Street**

"Was that you Doctor?"

"A few incarnations ago," The Doctor nodded.

The Doctor's young companion frowned at this, obviously as far as Digby was concerned The Doctor had barely been gone for a few moments, but to The Doctor the passing of time had been more like thousands of years.  

"That's a long time to leave him Doctor."

"Nonsense he hardly noticed!  Besides I've been busy…"  

But they both knew that this was a lame excuse, the young girl remained unimpressed.

"You'll understand when you meet him," The Doctor snapped, "he really is the most irritating…"

But whatever it was The Doctor said, was drowned out by the engine of the large cleaning tank gradually moving up the street.  It's large suction hoses absorbing everything that wasn't pavement.  

"DOCTOR?" Digby's voice rose above the din, he said something else but it was inaudible.   Digby made his way across the road still raising his voice determined to be heard above the din.

"DIGBY WAIT!"

But The Doctor's warning cry came too late; Digby had strayed into the path of the   cleaning tank and suddenly disappeared beneath the vehicles traction.    

 The Doctor and his companion looked on in horror as Digby must've been instantly crushed.  The suction and cleaning pads shrieked in protest at the sudden amount of spillage it was being asked to deal with as a red warning light suddenly came alive on the vehicles roof.  

"Stupid boy!"  The Doctor muttered as the vehicle came to a sudden halt, and the driver got out.

 "Well there's nothing more we can do here," The Doctor declared,  "Come let us away to New Skaro!"

"But Doctor you can't leave!"

The Doctor shrugged, "why not?  There's nothing we can do for him now!"

The driver nodded in confirmation.

"There's nothing left of him anyway; the cleanser saw to that, in fact it has to be the cleanest fatality I've ever seen, that is if you discount the time I was almost drowned in a beautiful lake by the Spanish inquisition," The Doctor shook his head, "just when you think you've seen everything… "

"Doctor did you know this was going to happen?"

"OF COURSE NOT!"  The Doctor exploded with outrage at the suggestion, "Had I known this was how Digby was going to end up I…"  The Doctor floundered.

"Would've got here sooner?"  His companion replied helpfully.

"Oh dear me no, I wouldn't have bothered coming back at all, what would be the point?"

"But Doctor you left him here!"  His companion snapped.  "This is your fault!"

Suddenly there was a tapping noise from within the cleansing tank; a muffled cry of "Doctor" could be heard.

"Digby?  Doctor he's alive!"

"So he is…" The Doctor muttered without much enthusiasm.

"Call emergency services!"  An onlooker cried.

"Yes, and whilst you're at it call the stupid accident squad too…"  The Doctor sighed, "I really need to go and sit down…"

*****

It took several hours for the fire and paramedic attendees to remove Digby from the tank, run him through decontamination, and examine him for any permanent damage.  

Of which there appeared to be none, other than the fact that Digby had now lost his baseball cap and crushed his headset.  

"Not that it matters much," Digby grumbled about his headset,  "as my MP3 player was blown up!"  

The three of them were back inside the Tardis.       

"I made you a new one."  The Doctor replied, "handing over a small silver sphere, "with one or two modifications."

The Doctor handed Digby two small coin sized circular soft pads.

"Cordless earphones."  He explained. 

"Cool!  Thanks Doctor, how much space has it got?"

"Its Artron cells yield infinite capacity," The Doctor explained.

"Wow! Can I use the Tardis console to download some music?" 

"No need, you will find every song produced in the twentieth and twenty first century has been downloaded from the Tardis databanks."

"You never told me the Tardis databanks had music!"  Digby exclaimed.

"I didn't know!"  The Doctor shrugged, "the old girl collects information from wherever she lands I seldom access the contemporary culture databank after a landing, I'm far more interested in knowing whether there is gravity and oxygen before I open the Tardis doors…"

The Doctor's voice trailed off as Digby was no longer listening to the world outside; he was tuned into the world of mp3's.     

"What are we going to do with him Doctor?"  His companion sounded amused.

"He is a liability," The Doctor explained, "he is idle, apathetic, selfish, and ignorant, he is quite possibly the most dangerous man I've ever met." 

"So are we taking him home?"

"Home?"  The Doctor laughed, "certainly not! He's coming to New Skaro, where I'm sure his talent for destruction and mayhem will prove very useful indeed!"

**The End.**


End file.
